Time does fly when you're having fun. Or life is so batshit cray cray that you are just peddling like crazy to stay above water. So much has been happening lately, I have dedicated a complete lined book to list and cross everything off as it comes, to stay on top of it all.
Mostly it's kept me on top of things although I forgot to make fairy bread for the kids joint birthday party over the weekend, but it didn't matter. There was shitloads of food. We are still eating left overs.
Better to have too much, than not enough. Last year we ran out of party pies, husband was mortified. This year he was mortified that there was about twenty kids in attendance. It was what most were referring to as a class party, which more or less it was.
As most of the kids from Izzys class were invited, mind you mostly the same kids that have been at parties all year, I decided to invite the whole lot. Why the fuck not?
My conscious got the better of me, and I thought that some of the kids in her class had more than likely not been to a party all year. I am all about inclusion and being non discriminative. All kids are precious and deserve to be included.
It's something I want to instill in my kids. To welcome and have tolerance for all types of people, no matter where they sit on the ladder of life. All preconceptions are left at the letter box, until proven otherwise. Geez it felt good.
It was as crazy as all hell. Kids all over the shop. The two hours went by so quickly, helped along by a game of pin the tail on the donkey, pin the tail on the mermaid, and an ingeniously timed game of limbo (surprisingly initiated by the husband), it all went amazingly well.
Brett set the shed up as a disco, with lights and all. We were all buggered at the end of the day, and the day after, but it was memorable for all of us. Lucky we had great friends who took fab photos and helped out with games. It was a lot of organisation and preparing, by me, which didn't go unnoticed by the hubby at the end of the day, which was nice.
I hardly stood still all day, except for lighting the candles and singing the birthday songs, then it was on like donkey kong, dishing up cake. You might as well have called me Jesus. Whipping cake out of my arse to the masses. It is written. One day, you mark this down as legend, in two thousand years, people will be talking about this party and my saintly, almost godly endeavours to entertain a class of boisterous kids with only my wits and an oven full of pastry goods.
Of course I kid, but by god did I turn cordial and party bags into wine that night!